When I got to the meeting-place I found that a feast
had been spread. I don’t know where the
money came from; maybe it was Bolshevik gold, as the
enemy charged, or maybe it was the ill-gotten gains
of a “million dollar movie vamp.”
Anyhow, there was a table spread with a couple of
cloths that were clean, if ragged, and on them flowers
and fruit. Carpenter was seated at the head of
the table, and I noted to my surprise that he had
on a beautiful robe of snow-white linen, instead of
the one he had formerly worn, which was not only stained
with kerosene but filthy with the dust of the streets.
I learned that Mrs. T-S had brought this festal garment—a
simple matter for her, because in movie studios they
have wardrobe rooms where they turn out any sort of
costume imaginable.
This robe was so striking that it created a little
controversy. James, the carpenter, who had an
ascetic spirit, considered it necessary to speak plainly,
and point out that Mrs. T-S would have done better
to take the money and give it to the poor. But
the prophet answered: “Let this woman alone.
She has done a good thing. The poor you have
always with you, but me you have only for a short
time. This woman has helped to make our feast
happy, and men will tell about it in future years.”
But that did not satisfy the ascetic James, who retired
to his corner grumbling. “I know, we’re
going to start a new church—the same old
graft all over again! A man has no business to
say a thing like that. The first thing you know,
they’ll be taking the widow’s mite to
buy silk and velvet dresses for him and golden goblets
for him to drink from! And then, before you know
it they’ll be setting him up in stained glass
windows, and priests’ll be wearing jewelled
robes, and saying it’s all right, and quoting
his words!” I perceived that it wasn’t
so easy for a prophet to manage a bunch of disciples
in these modern days!
The controversy did not seem to trouble Mrs. T-S,
who was waddling about, perfectly happy in the kitchen—doing
the things she would have done all the time, if her
husband’s social position had not required her
to keep a dozen servants. Also, I noted to my
great astonishment that Mary Magna, instead of taking
a place at the prophet’s right hand, according
to the prerogative of queens, had put on a plain apron
and was helping “Maw” and Mrs. Abell.
More surprising yet, T-S had seated himself inconspicuously
at the foot of the table, while at the prophet’s
right hand there sat a convict with a twenty year
jail sentence hanging over him—John Colver,
the “wobbly” poet! Again an ancient
phrase learned in childhood came floating through
my mind: “He hath put down the mighty from
their seats, and exalted them of low degree!”
